Closing Curtains
by Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs
Summary: It's Jed's birthday and he knows how to close to the curtains. Or, the fic where Jed and Abbey have sex on the Resolute Desk. Abbey/Jed, shameless desk sex. One-shot. Happy Birthday Martin Sheen!


A/N: Well today is the wonderful Martin Sheen's birthday, and I just couldn't help myself with this. Shameless desk smut; takes place in early season two (after 'And It's Surely To Their Credit), we'll say.

Dedicated to Libby, and our obsession with desk sex.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of The West Wing, I simply like to play my hand at being the President and First Lady on occassion.

* * *

"I figured out how to close the curtains."

Abbey Bartlet looked up from her book, raising an eyebrow at her husband's remark as she slid her glasses off her nose. He didn't look up from the file he was reading, and she pursed her lips, stretching her legs out on the couch she was perched on.

It was Jed's birthday, but the country didn't stop working just because of a silly date, so here they were, in the Oval Office at eleven forty five at night. He'd already told her she could go back to the Residency, but she'd refused; she wanted to be around him, even if he was working. She'd brought a medical journal, but she was dangerously close to falling asleep- and she didn't want this night to end any other way than having sex with her husband.

"Congratulations," she replied mildly, not understanding the significance of his statement. He looked up from his paperwork, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. "How many more reports you got there, Birthday Boy?"

He rolled his eyes, dragging the glasses off his nose and setting them aside, closing his file as well.

"If I were a betting man, I'd say you were almost anxious to get back to the Residency, sweet knees," he said, leaning back in his chair. She had to roll her eyes at that; placing her book on the table, she stood, stretching her back. She watched his eyes, the slow heat that burned in his blue irises.

"And you're not?" she asked, sauntering over to his desk; she'd abandoned her heels long before, and was in only her pantyhose. She leaned forward on the desk and allowed Jed a peek at her cleavage; she watched his throat move as he swallowed.

"Not particularly," he replied, and her eyes widened. When did Jed ever not look forward to sex?

"Oh?" she asked, unable to form any other coherent questions. He shook his head, pushing his chair back and tugging her closer from where she'd rounded the desk. She almost resisted, but his warm touch relaxed her as she settled on his lap.

"Not when we have a blissfully empty room right here, and no need to wait," he murmured in her ear, lips trailing down her neck, nipping lightly at her exposed collarbone. She bit back the quiet moan, tilting her head to give him better access to the spot behind her ear they both knew she loved.

"Jed..." she protested, though she pressed herself a little closer to his warm body, one hand gripping his thigh tightly. "We're in the Oval."

"I told you I know how to close to curtains," he replied, lips moving over her jaw now. "Debbie's gone, Leo's gone, most of the building is gone- and it's such a long walk back to our room."

Abbey wanted to so badly to resist, but when she turned to look at him he had those big baby blues giving her the puppy dog look.

"Please Abbey? It's my birthday," he said, as though she needed reminding. The kiss her placed on her lips was the final straw; she turned so that she straddled him, fingers threading through his hair as her mouth opened his easily.

He had the zipper of her skirt down in moments, and together they stood so they could remove it. His hands went to her thighs, fingering the edge of the stockings and the pale, exposed skin of her upper thigh.

"Keep these on," he murmured against the shell of her ear, feeling her shiver against him. Her fingers dropped to his belt, teasing him through the material. He groaned against her mouth, trying to undo the buttons of her blouse, frustration leaking through when he couldn't get them out of their holes.

She laughed against his mouth, pulling back and unbuttoning the blouse easily, green eyes dark and seductive as she dropped the white fabric to the floor.

"Always so impatient," she murmured, running her fingers along the edges of her white lace bra, tugging lightly on the crimson bow that sat directly between her breasts. Her fingers moved to his chest, gliding through his buttons easily; he envied the ease with which she moved.

His hands wrapped around her pale, smooth waist and tugged her against him; their kisses increased in intensity as he moved to the desk, setting her on the edge as she shoved his pants and boxers down to his ankles while he struggled to tug her panties off.

"_Jed_," she moaned as his fingers explored her inner thighs, just ghosting over where she wanted him most. Retaliating, she formed a ring with her thumb and forefinger, wapping it around him and sliding forward, smirking at the moan he gave her. He pulled back, kissing her again, leaving her breathless. "Inside. Now."

Always one of follow her orders, he spread her legs further and slid inside of her; the moan of his name and sharp gasp afterward would always be two of his favorite sounds in the world. She was warm and wet and tight and _god_ he just wanted this to last forever.

At her gentle prodding he began to move his hips, his hands splayed out on the desk on either side of her, his lips pressed to hers as her hands ran up and down his back, sometimes detouring to his ass or hips. She felt incredible, and he bit back the groan as she tightened around he when he pulled out, his name leaving her lips with a gasp when he brought one hand between them.

She was panting and he thought he was going to have a heart attack; she bit his shoulder to keep from screaming his name, and he couldn't help the flash of masculine pride that shot through him when she coaxed him towards release. When they were able to breath again he pulled out, and her moan of disappointment was more than enough for him to know that this night was _far_ from over.

"Good birthday present?" she asked asked as she tugged her panties back up her legs, a sly grin on her face. He smirked, tugging her into another kiss that made her moan.

"Whatda you think, babe?" he asked, rebuckling his belt and rebuttoning his shirt. They looked disheveled; neither really cared.

"That was just the first one," she murmured, lips moving over his neck and jaw, trailing to his ear. "Just wait until we get in bed."

Happy Birthday Mr. President _indeed_.


End file.
